New York: Pastrami, Pizza and Creams’ Cousin
New York. What a place. The time I had wasn’t long enough to cram in all the places on my list, but then again I don’t think a lifetime would suffice. I’ve mentioned the amazing, I’ve mentioned the alright, I’ve left out the bad. However very happy to provide that list on request.
Katz’s Deli
This sandwich is famous for good reason. I have never tasted anything like it. The meat may look intimidating, but it’s not like those sandwiches that are overstuffed, with tough bread that you practically need a chainsaw to get through the crust. There’s nothing more humbling than tearing at sourdough bread with your teeth and failing miserably, sandwich contents spilling down your front as you realise how far removed you are from your primitive ancestors. This was something else. The pastrami is crusted with spice, and it’s so tender that it literally just collapses and melts in your mouth with every bite. The bread is so soft that it’s a help, not a hindrance in the sandwich experience. Complete with a slathering of that beaut mustard (plus the extra bottle on the table so you can add it to your heart’s content) and a side of pickles – the sour ones were my favourite – and it’s a truly unique New York experience. I didn’t experience the rumoured stressful queues and that’s because I was dedicated to the cause. I planned my day around this sandwich. Small dinner the night before, up early, pastrami on rye for breakfast at 9am. This is ‘Merica, land of the free, I can have a stack of pastrami and pickles for breakfast if I want.
Los Tacos No.1
I’m not going to try and claim there’s no good Mexican food in London. I haven’t been to enough places and I know there are some gems, namely Sonora Taquería which I’m yet to visit but am assured is fantastic. However, the most readily available Mexican food we have consists of microwaved quesadillas with scalding hot cheese, 2 for 1 cocktails and dia de Los muertos decor. That’s why I make a point to seek out Mexican food when I’m in America, and though NYC isn’t necessarily the most likely place, Tacos No. 1 is apparently on par with cuisine across the country.
The set up is simple enough - you order at the till, hand one of the line chefs your ticket, choose between corn and flour tortilla and watch them make it in lightning speed. The open window frames the kitchen and viewing the bustle behind was mesmerising. It’s chaotic yet organised, a harmony I find is unique to the kitchen. The adobada (marinaded pork) stands vertically roasting slowly at the back in a similar style to kebab, with a pineapple crowning the mound so the roasted juices run down and coat all the grooves of the meat. Slices are hastily cut off as areas get caramelised and charred, filling the tacos as orders flood in. I got a trio of tacos, one of each; pork, chicken and beef with all the toppings in corn tortillas and carried them to the standing tables — you’re here for the food, not to socialise, and I respect that about the place. Beef was the standout for me, as well-cooked beef often is. Melt-in-the-mouth, well seasoned, wonderful. The chicken and the pork were equally as good; the chicken was so tender and the pork had a satisfying crisp to the edges from the cooking process, adding a nice crunch, a contrast to the juicy fattiness of the meat. All the other ingredients combined resulted in the perfect bite; guac brought creaminess, the salsa a nice freshness with a deep kick of chilli, onion a crunch and plenty of lime for that well-needed zest and acidity to cut through. This place was truly special and any of my future trips to New York won’t be complete without a visit
Russ & Daughters
Can you go to NYC without getting a bagel? The answer should be no. R&D’s is another establishment that’s become an NY must-visit, getting a mention in most articles about food in the city. The inside was a slick and stylish, with bright interior, neon signs and gourmet offerings. It wasn’t a dissimilar vibe to a deli you’d find in East London, but this place meant business: I’ve never seen such huge cuts of salmon and the cream cheese offerings were sensational; we’re talking horseradish-dill, caviar, goat, vegan, scallion and that’s not even a complete list. You go in, take a ticket and wait for your number to be called. I went when it was quieter, but I can imagine on a busy day this experience would be a hectic one, so know what you’re ordering before you’re called up. Once you go, they take your order and make the bagel in front of you. My guy was lovely and had time to chat, asking me about the bagel scene in London and telling me I needed to try this one RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM when he found out it was my first one in New York. I went for a classic: everything bagel with lox. I watched as he slathered it with cream cheese from the vats in the display window, piled it high with what looked to be the best smoked salmon I’d ever seen and finished it off with onions, capers and tomato. Biting into that bagel truly was a wonderful experience. Think of the best one you’ve tried and times that by 10.
Figure Eight
Figure Eight is described as a Chinese-American restaurant. It’s a bar that oozes style and I was lucky enough to get a walk-in spot at the bar.
I should have got the seafood tower, as that’s what they’re known for. But alas, I was on my own and didn’t fancy tackling it solo. So instead, I do what I always do when overwhelmed by a very good menu and asked the guy working there what he reccomended. I ended up going for the bubble waffle with jalapeño butter, a delicious novelty that’s a sophisticated twist on the ones I’ve had in Chinatown wrapped around ice cream. The star of the show, however, was the skate. I’d never had skate breadcrumbed and deep fried and it quickly became a favourite. The crunchy, spicy breadcrumb encased tender flakiness beyond belief, served with a scone-type thing (probably not the technical name) that featured buttery layers of pastry, with a side of creamy buttermilk and gherkins, it was a mini sandwich type situation which I quickly got stuck into.
The Four Horseman
I love small plates: I’m horribly indecisive and it takes away the pressure of ordering badly.
Over in Williamsburg, which also happened to be my favourite place I went, this restaurant was down a side road and would be easy to walk past if it wasn’t for the line of people down the street at opening. I didn’t book and I almost ended up regretting it but luckily I grabbed the last available bar seat. The restaurant itself employs the laid-back Scandi vibe with simple and sleek furnishings, wine lining shelves on the wall alongside the fun art and open kitchen. The menu was hard for me to decipher and I had to ask the very helpful barman Sam for his recommendations, which he gave expertly. I ended up ordering the asparagus, chunky and sliced, bathed in a creamy white sauce and covered in sesame. I tried sweetbreads, a deceptive name that I soon discovered to be a guise for pancreas, but those skewers were so tender and served with a soy-cured egg yolk that had me googling ‘how to cure egg yolk at home’. Then, the skate. This featured the same satisfying crunch and tender flaky fish as Figure Eight, but arguably a less crispy batter which I actually preferred. And finally, the sticky toffee pudding. I couldn’t not order this, especially when I was told that many Brits have said it’s the best they’ve had. It was very very good; a caramelised crust, soft spongy middle and a generous helping of freshly whipped cream. I’m usually an ice cream kinda gal, but the light, airy cream was exactly what this version called for. Each dish was unique and a joy to eat and the atmosphere of the place was something else. The team were lovely and sitting at the bar was a social experience in itself. I ended up meeting some fantastic people that night and I got the feeling that wasn’t a unique occurrence. A lot of the customers knew the team by name and conversation flowed between strangers with ease, discussing life and food and what we’d ordered. I actually went back for lunch and had possibly the best pasta I’ve had: al dente jumbo macaroni, pieces of juicy shrimp, Calabrian chilli butter and incredibly crunchy breadcrumbs that didn’t lose their bite despite the sauciness of the dish. The ever-changing seasonal menu means that it’s a new experience with every visit and I’ll definitely be back.
Levain Cookies
Social media can often take a place and run with it. Often, videos equate food looking good with tasting good and it’s hard to determine whether something is just aesthetic or delicious, too. I can confirm that Levain cookies are both, and are indeed worth the hype. They are huge, a dome the size of my palm. I opted for the classic, a chocolate and walnut cookie. It had all the elements of the perfect bake, but times it by 100. A golden, chewy, thick crust. Fluffy yet gooey interior. Molten chocolate chips. Crunchy walnuts. It was truly a heavenly experience and it’s a must visit for everyone in my opinion.
Ray’s Candy Store
90-something year old Ray Alvarez is a city legend. In the 1950s he left the Iranian navy and he’s been in New York ever since, setting up shop in 1974 and selling sweet treats of all variety from this unassuming corner shop. I like to think of it as an accurate representation of the American Dream.
The round-the-clock nature of the shop meant he was famed for sleeping there, jumping up whenever a customer entered. I was delighted to find that he wasn’t there on my 11pm visit, meaning he must have finally gone some semblance of a work-life balance. The shop itself feels like a fever dream, with fluorescent lights and paper signs covering the walls promising all the delights you could dream of. I LOVED it.
What’s on offer, you ask? Everything. They’ve got fries, sweets and hotdogs, egg creams and ice creams, and famous fried oreos. Obviously I had to go for the oreos; I tried a battered mars bar once about 10 years ago and I still think of it fondly. The only portion option was huge so I offered the majority to some girls in the queue behind me. I was glad I did: when it was handed to me I found 12 fried mounds of pure sugar and fat, covered in what I can only describe as a mountain of icing sugar. Seriously, it was the stuff of nine year old Nadiya’s dreams, and handing over the promised number to my new-found mates felt like I was doing an illicit deal in the back streets of New York. They were pretty delicious, but incredibly sickly (obviously) and I ended up giving some to passing strangers, too. But Ray’s was an experience in itself, unique to the city and therefore an essential visit. Egg cream next time for me.
Eileen’s Special Cheesecake
This place is an unassuming spot that’s been there since 1975, offering up some wonderful cheesecake choices. When a place has ‘special’ in the title they mean business: whether that’s the business of scamming or the business of good food is anyone’s guess. Luckily, Eileen’s was the latter. The multitude of options fill the display case at the till. You can go for classic, but there are so many choices; Strawberry, salted caramel, blueberry, chocolate… the list goes on.
This cheesecake was perfect. Tartness balanced with creaminess, the filling was almost a whipped cream-like consistency it was so light, but still firm enough to hold up. And that crust. The graham cracker crust was hefty enough to hold the filling but thin enough to not detract from the creaminess, providing the perfect level of crunch.
Custard Egg Tart
Whilst at dinner, I met a food writer who informed me of the custard tart heaven that is Chinatown. Apparently there are some of the best, with one Reddit user having done a tour of all the most reputable offerings and putting them against each other. I only had the pleasure of eating one, a red bean concoction, but if I had another day in New York I’d definitely try a few more. You can see the guide here if you’re interested.
and the average…
Magnolia Bakery
I had to try it, didn’t I? That famous banana pudding. It was decent, with soft sponge and banana pieces, loaded with fluffy whipped cream. But I’m a big fan of textures and that’s something that this lacked. No crunch or bite, just a lot of (delicious) mush. Not necessarily something to write home about, but I’d probably get it again if I was passing by.
Milk
It kind of felt like the souped-up American cousin of Creams, with offerings of the nicknamed ‘crack pie’ and towering bakes that look intimidating to eat. Brightly lit and multi-coloured, I feel that Milk is riding on the afterglow of the glory days when it was social media’s sweetheart. I had the birthday cake which was fine, borderline bad. The dense sponge was dry and the flecks of colour relt redundant. With the multitude of bakeries and incredible sweet stuff in NYC, it’s not somewhere I’d recommend or go back to.
Artichoke Basile’s
Greenwich village was a place I frequently found myself in the evening. Packed with jazz clubs, music venues and comedy shows, it seemed this was the hot-spot for those that seek out a more down-to-earth experience away from the glitz of the upper east side. Artichoke Basile’s is nestled amongst said clubs and is known for its namesake, the artichoke pizza.
Folding a slice seems to be a metric for good pizza in New York, but this beast was unfoldable. The crust is pretty thick in comparison to other slices in the city and it’s also laden with a buttery, creamy sauce, with a LOT of cheese and subsequently grease. I’m not afraid of a little grease when it comes to pizza but this was a bit much. It’s the sort of thing that I’m glad I tried, just so I can be involved in the novelty and debate, but wouldn’t necessarily go back.
